Highland Fog
It's highland weather today. My house sits at the top of a little hill with Water Valley unfolding below it. Sit on the front porch swing and you're eye level with the tops of the trees one block away.
This morning the fog was so thick that only the crown of the trees pokes through, misty green scalps in a sea of gray.
I spent some time on the porch brainstorming for writing for a client's website, and this came to mind about my late-twenties' crisis:
Life, or perhaps just maturity, is a balance between a lust for chaos and a longing for contentedness.
Perhaps I'll be famous for that quote someday. Even better, maybe I'll be able to internalize it.
This morning the fog was so thick that only the crown of the trees pokes through, misty green scalps in a sea of gray.
I spent some time on the porch brainstorming for writing for a client's website, and this came to mind about my late-twenties' crisis:
Life, or perhaps just maturity, is a balance between a lust for chaos and a longing for contentedness.
Perhaps I'll be famous for that quote someday. Even better, maybe I'll be able to internalize it.